


Coming Home

by Maurey



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Experimental, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 06:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12977640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maurey/pseuds/Maurey
Summary: He's finally back home as himself, for the first time in many years. But all may not be as it seems.Silly, fluffy experimental drabble in honour of darling Vitya's birthday.





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheLastNero](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastNero/gifts).



> Hope you enjoy this silly lil' thing <3 I might still do one of those crack-y drabbles I mentioned for EC to be honest, since this lil' thing kinda came out of nowhere, as you full well know, haha. Hope you had a great day, and cheers to many more, syna.
> 
> Fluff with some plot, honestly, though an attempt was made to keep things in character.
> 
> Inspired by [Coming Home](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k84QxVJd0tI) by Skylar Grey

It had been a long time, too long, since he'd set his sights on the looming towers of his home. His one true home. No matter what had happened, what sense he'd had lost over the years, no matter how far he'd succumbed into his own insanity, no matter how far he bought into his own, increasingly ludicrous, agenda, no matter everything, Hogwarts had been, and always would give him a sense of wonder and belonging. Not even Dumbledore had ever been able to tarnish it for him, not really.

He couldn't quite truthfully serenade it as his one true home, however, as it wouldn't strictly be true. Not any longer. The insufferable, lovely, intelligent, infuriating young man, with his untameable black lion's mane of a hairstyle, had rightfully held that title for a longer time than he'd ever really considered, until recently. Not that he'd acknowledge that thought much, even nowadays, and most certainly not outside of the bounds of his own mind.

The soft smirk on Harry's features made him want to instinctively bristle, and retort within their normal rapport of witty, sharp banter, and he took a breath to start with a particularly sharp remark.  
The young man had obviously picked up on his train of thought through their bond, however. _(The bond that had started everything, that brought him home for what had seemed like the first time in a lifetime, that changed the wizarding world forever, that changed him, of all people.)_ All of his wit and sharpness deflated in a single, sharp breath, however, when Harry's, _(his darling Harry's)_ , smirk softened into a genuine smile. His hand was squeezed, and brought to that familiar mouth before it was kissed, understanding shining in his eyes, which were tinted an almost blazing orange from the vividly setting sun, more similar to his own crimson than the familiar, typical green, "Welcome home, Marvolo."

What many poets and singers have said was rather true, at least for Marvolo- it's always darkest before the dawn. After all, Harry, _(dear, much too forgiving, darling Harry, his Horcrux, and, admittedly, likely the only person he could ever come to love or care for)_ , came into his life at the moment he was about to make an irreversible mistake. Neither of them were quite sure, to that day, how exactly Harry had managed to dismantle the entirety of the war by, what in retrospect were just his own, true, honest feelings. The fact that his Harry had won over so many people, _(had affected so much, had improved their world, long before they came to an agreement, before he had returned to any true sanity)_ , had struck him, even then. That emotions weren't just weakness, just something to manipulate for pure gain, not a weakness, but a strength, and could be used as a positive way to unite people as a single front. To unite them towards a belief. Much more effective than fear or tyranny could ever prove to be.

It had resonated with, and sung to even his broken mind, magic, and soul, long before he had realised he had inadvertently made his Harry into a Horcrux. Before they realised they belonged together. Negotiations had been organised, Voldemort began to slowly come back to himself from prolonged contact with a Horcrux long lost to him, without knowing it, of course. Once he'd finally come to terms and figured out everything, _(that he had made a mistake, that no one soul could remain stable in so many different fragments)_ , he accepted he needed to take action. Well, Harry, _(dear Harry)_ , somehow managed to find his old diary. Despite being destroyed, his largest soul fragment had somehow hung on, just barely existing... After this, Voldemort's, no, Marvolo's, healing and return to himself was nearly-guaranteed, though, with some thought, _(and encouragement from Harry, whom he now knew to be his soul)_ , decided to absorb several more fragments to allow himself to heal and mend. While Marvolo would always be himself, be somewhat cold, analytical, and aloof, and desire a sense of power and control, that was no longer his entire world, nor his entire scope of desire. _(His Harry meant too much to him. His Harry, the only one to elicit such positive, warm feelings in the Dark Lord, the first to make him honestly smile and laugh at anything, other than the tortures he had witnessed while insane...)_ Harry... He owed him much, even as young, and still inexperienced he was in some things. The youth was eager to learn and improve himself, however, and Marvolo, as always, had been eager to teach.

It had taken a surprising amount of time for the two of them to formally acknowledge their feelings, and connection, and, years after, they would wonder why it took them so long. At the time, however, it was an awkward affair of analogies and allegories, simply deflections and pantomimes of implications. That is, until Harry lost patience and simply kissed him, that is. _(Marvolo would never forget how right that moment felt, how whole he had felt, whole in a way that even reabsorbing some of his Horcruxes had not provided. That day, the Dark Lord had his first ever true taste of what love could be.)_

Marvolo shook his head softly, banishing the thoughts swarming in his head, and turned his attention back to the present. Harry still cradled his hand, looking at him with shimmering eyes full of a sense of warmth, humour, and question. He would refuse to speak of it for many weeks to come, but, unable to contain the warmth in his chest, he simply blurted, in his smooth baritone, bringing his free hand to caress his lover's cheek, "Harry... I've been home for a long time." 

Harry looked up at him with wide eyes, jaw slack in shock for but a moment, before he leaned in to kiss his silly, loveable Dark Lord.


End file.
